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EMERY
By the time we’re heading downstairs for dinner, Isabella is a new girl.
“I want cake,” she proclaims loudly from the seat of the stair lift. “And soda. Can I have soda?”
“Water or milk,” I tell her. “You shouldn’t have any sugary drinks right now. It’s not good for your infection.”
She wrinkles her nose. “I’m fine. The doctor said so.”
“And the doctor also said milk and water,” I reply sternly. “No arguments, okay?”
I can tell she wants to argue. She has on her stubborn face, her nostrils flared and teeth bared. But then she sees Adrik standing next to me and sighs. “Okay, Mama. But can I have cake?”
The lift rattles to a stop at the base of the stairs. Adrik unstraps Isabella and moves her to her wheelchair.
“You drive a hard bargain,” he tells her. “You’re a natural.”
“Don’t encourage her,” I hiss.
“Pleeeeeease,” Isabella sing-songs. “Pretty please, can I have cake?”
“If you eat all of your dinner, then… fine,” I concede. “You can have cake.”
Isabella lets out a whoop of triumph. “Yay!”
“What about me?” a teasing voice calls from further down the hall. “If I eat all of my dinner, can I have cake, too?”
I turn around and see a man who can only be Adrik’s brother. They have the same dark hair and cerulean blue eyes. The same arrogant lean to their posture.
But where Adrik is broad, Yasha is lean. Wiry, but with a kind of latent kinetic energy, like a snake that could lash out at any moment. I feel goosebumps ripple up on the back of my neck.
“Finish your vegetables and you might even get a glass of the good stuff for a nightcap,” Adrik jokes back.
I’ve gotten more used to this side of him—comfortable and teasing. But hearing him with his brother takes it to another level.
Adrik loves his brother dearly. It’s obvious the moment I see them together.
“Now, that is motivation.” Yasha smiles. It’s an effortless smile and I wonder what about him gave me the creeps in the first place. There’s no trace of that unsettling vibe left. He’s charming, really.
He spins around, looking down the hall. “Where did my wife get off to?”
“I’m here, I’m here!”
A tall, blonde woman comes around the corner.
Actually, that’s not quite accurate: the pregnant belly of a tall, blonde woman comes around the corner, followed by the woman herself. She is wearing a tan jumpsuit and her pin-straight hair is chopped elegantly to just above her shoulders.
She smiles at me. Just like Yasha, it’s the kind of smile that you’d find on the face of a friend you haven’t seen in a long time. “You must be Emery.”
Adrik steps up between us. “Emery, this is my brother, Yasha, and his wife, Veronika.”
I stick out my hand. “It’s so nice to meet you both.”
Yasha swats my hand away. “Are we in court or something?” he chuckles. “We’re a family now. Families hug.”
Before I can argue, he pulls me into a tight embrace.
For a second, I’m too stunned to reciprocate. My arms hang uselessly at my sides. But then I regain my senses and hug Yasha back.
“Typical Yasha,” Veronika mumbles to Adrik. “I can’t take him anywhere.”
Yasha is wearing a dark, short-sleeved button-down. The sleeves are rolled up twice on his arms. I see the inky tendrils of a tattoo, a peek of wiry bicep.
And then, down on his forearm, I see something that makes my heart start to throb painfully.
Ba-boom.
Ba-boom.
Each beat like a hammer whaling on my ribs. My whole skeleton shakes with it.
My stomach bottoms out, and I feel nauseous. It’s almost like I’m on one of those drop tower rides at an amusement park and the whole world just fell out from under me.
I inhale sharply. Yasha pulls back, concern etched across his face. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to crush you. I’m just excited to finally meet my brother’s new wife.”
I feel dizzy, but I do my best to nod and smile.
Yasha turns to Adrik and tosses an arm around his brother’s shoulders. As he does, I get an even better look at the spot on the side of his arm.
It’s a keloid scar. A dark patch of skin raised in a jagged line down the inside of his forearm.
And I’ve seen it before.
Flashes of repressed memory I didn’t even know I had come back to me like a movie I can’t escape.
I see a bare chest hovering over me, arms braced on either side of my body.
And the scar—I see it running down the stranger’s arm. I feel it under my fingertips as I try weakly to push him away, to push him off of me.
I want to scream, but his hand clamps down over my mouth.
“Don’t say a word, little girl. Don’t say a fucking word.”
Tears prick the backs of my eyes. I swallow down my rising panic.
“Emery?”
I blink back to the present. Adrik is looking at me. His brow is knit in concern. “Are you ready?”
He gestures down the hall that Yasha and Veronika are walking down. Isabella is wheeling between them, already talking their ear off.
“Yeah, right.” I shake my head. “Sorry, I just… I got dizzy.”
“You’re okay?”
I nod. “I’m fine. Yeah, let’s… let’s go eat. I’m ready.”
I walk next to Adrik, but I may as well be sleepwalking. I barely even feel my feet hit the floor.
Yasha is helping Isabella up to the table when I get into the dining room. He’s smiling down at her.
Something about him is so familiar.
He looks like his brother, yes. But… it’s more than that.
It’s the arch of his upper lip. The narrow slant of his nose and the way it turns up at the end. It takes me a moment to see it, but when I do, I nearly collapse.
He looks like Isabella.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Adrik mutters.
I nod like a madwoman. “I’m okay. I’m fine.”
Maybe if I keep saying it, it will become true. Because I am not fine right now.
I’m losing it.
Literally losing it.
It can’t be him. It can’t be, it can’t be, it can’t be.
I'm crazy to even consider it. I just met the man thirty fucking seconds ago, for God’s sake! How can I already be jumping to such horrifying conclusions?
"So let’s hear it: how is marriage treating you, bro?" Yasha asks. "Is it everything you thought it would be?"
Adrik shakes his head. "It’s… tolerable.”
"That’s the highest praise I’ve ever heard cross your lips." Yasha laughs and another flashback takes hold.
I'm lying on my side in a strange bed. Cold air rushes over my bare skin. A man is standing next to the bed. He has dark hair and the scar on his right arm.
He's on the phone, and… he laughs.
